


These Thing You'll Never Say

by STARSdidathing



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Clones, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Loki Angst, Loki Feels, Loki Needs a Hug, Loki-centric, M/M, Magic, Unrequited Love, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 21:39:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4761950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/STARSdidathing/pseuds/STARSdidathing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I want you," Tony repeated. He didn't take a step, just leaned slightly, as if he was failing to resist a pull that drew him towards Loki. "I love you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Thing You'll Never Say

**Author's Note:**

> Another story I originally posted to FrostIron and can be found [here]().
> 
> These were the original notes:
> 
> Damn **[HalcyonFrost](http://archiveofourown.org/users/HalcyonFrost)** for being an enabler and making me fill my own prompt! You can blame/thank her for this (and our awesome talks XD)! If you’ve read the prompt (posted here on frostiron), you’ll know it. Dedicated to Hal. Because she’s made of sparkles and awesome and plays tennis with me.

“Tell me you love me.”

Tony rolled his eyes and sent him a cheeky smile. “Of course I love you, Loki.”

Loki's smile was stretched, too thin and not high enough to light his eyes or erase the sadness. "Yes, you do," he murmured and stood up from the edge of the bed. He took a few steps closer, his eyes drinking in the mortal before him, lingering on his hands, callused - but were they in the right places? What would they feel like? "But do you want me?"

Lifting his chin, Tony looked up through his eyelashes, a seductive technique that made Loki frown and flick his hand. Tony shook off the look and came back cocky with a smirk on his lips and a glint in his eyes; it was all lust and the promise of a night spent in his bed; something that many women had seen over the years. "Yeah, Loki, I want you."

"Again," Loki commanded.

"I want you," Tony repeated. He didn't take a step, just leaned slightly, as if he was failing to resist a pull that drew him towards Loki. "I love you."

Loki swallowed, his mouth feeling dry as he moved again, but didn't stray near enough to touch. He circled the mortal, his eyes trailing over each piece of revealed skin, each stain on old clothing, and lingering on the curve of Tony's neck. He finished where he started, facing the other. He licked his lower lip and whispered the next question "If I granted you immortality?"

"I would spend it with you," was the instant response. "I would leave Earth for you. I would do... _anything_ , if it got me you."

Loki took one more step until they were only inches apart. He could almost feel his chest brushing Tony's, could almost pretend to smell the sharp and exotic scent of Tony's cologne, the one that filled him with such longing and agitation both - and that he could never get right and so had given up trying. But he could imagine it and Loki's imagination was better than most. His voice was hoarse when he asked, "Who do you belong to?"

"You, Loki. I'm yours, your mortal, your Anthony," Tony lifted a hand as if to touch, hovering it inches from Loki's cheek, "your lover."

Loki couldn't stop himself, he reached up and tried to brush Tony's skin, capture his jaw and pull him into a kiss and into his arms - but like every time he fell so low as to pretend he could be happy, to have what he wanted and be desired in return - all it took was the slightest touch for everything to fall to pieces. The second his fingers connected, Tony began to shimmer, causing Loki's face to crack with pain. 

He shut his eyes so he wouldn't have to witness it, because just like the idea of Tony ever loving him; it was nothing more than an illusion. The clone faded out of existence as Loki dropped his hand to his side and clenched his fist. _Sentiment_ , his mind hissed acidly. _You are a fool. You will never be his choice._

The fingers of his other hand, long and frustrated, pulled through his hair, disrupting it and catching on strands, grounding him to the truth of reality rather than allowing him to slip into the lies he could so easily craft, even to himself. He eyes slowly slid open, staring at the space that had once occupied a version of the man that never faded far from Loki's mind. Why did he force himself through this so consistently? Why did he make himself watch prompted lies fall from soft lips?

"Oi, Reindeer Games," Loki flinched before his gaze darted to the door; it was still shut but being banged on by the fists of the man he'd recently projected. "What did you do to JARVIS this time? He said he can't see in here, _again_."

Loki had to quickly release the hand at his side from a fist when he felt his nails puncture skin. "I do not take kindly to being watched when I undress, Anthony," he answered smoothly, his voice a practiced and finely tuned instrument to keep from betraying him.

There was a moment's pause but when he spoke again, Loki could hear the smirk, the waggling eyebrows. "Oooh, did I interrupt your private time?"

Loki winced, and he was glad he had disable the infernal A.I. so his reaction - and his desires; so pathetic, so unguarded, so _futile_ \- wouldn't be seen. "If you do not leave me be in this instant, Stark..." he trailed off, threateningly.

Tony just laughed. "Whatever, go spank the monkey or whatever it is you aliens call it - but seriously," his voice turned firm and without his usual, so casually thrown humor. Loki could picture him glaring at the door; his eyes burning with all the warning of an oncoming storm, "Stop switching off JARVIS. He can block anyone - even me - from seeing whatever it is you do, but if you keep this up SHIELD will retract that nice shiny deal they offered you and then it's a booting off Midgard and back to Asgard, with the Avengers wielding the boot."

Loki took a careful breath and when he spoke it was with a wicked amusement he didn't feel. "And here I thought you would want me gone as soon as you could manage it, Stark."

There was a very pregnant pause and Loki held his breath before, "Yeah, well, the alternative is making Fury's day, so."

Loki's shoulders slumped, it was something he would never allow if he hadn't sealed the room himself. A hand tugged in his hair one more - a pitiful, distressed gesture - while his heart twisted and ached like the inferior organ it was. "But of course," he answered numbly, but raised his voice and attached emotion before suspicion could fall. He also raised himself, fixed the disarray and the heartache from his clothes, his face, his hair. He stood tall and proud; the regal Prince, the untouchable monster of ice and let JARVIS leak back into the room and swung the door open with his magic for good measure. Tony's face was startled and Loki drank it in; one more piece to add to the untouchable version that danced at his fingertips, and haunted the confines of both mind and room. "Now, now, Stark. Don't tell me you hoped to find me unclothed?"

Tony snorted and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because that's something I'd want to see."

Raising an eyebrow, Loki kept any reactions locked away as he took steps to close the distance between himself and the mortal. "And what do you want to see? Your latest experiment proceed according to plan, rather than the mess I presume you have caused and now request my superior knowledge with?"

The mortal's eyes blazed with a fire at the words, a spark Loki could never resist kindling. He very nearly smiled - very nearly gave something precious and dangerous away - but Tony was already absorbed in the challenge, excitement and argument of his response; heading to his labs and expecting Loki to follow. If he did, Loki knew that with the patience of a few hours he could slide under the protective layer Tony wore at all other times. He could savour the scent of motor oil and sweat as he leaned in and looked over Tony's shoulder, breathing in the spot where it came strongest; his neck. He could brush his fingers with Tony's - search out the calluses he was still trying to learn - when the desire for coffee overruled Tony's dislike of receiving things. He could...

 _You could behave like a maiden_ , he growled at himself. _You have already debased yourself enough for this **mortal**._

"Loki?" Tony called and Loki flicked his attention to the other. He was waiting and smiling while bemusement puckered his brow--and it was and expression that was his, entirely _Loki’s_ to witness - to recreate and change, to fit with the words he desired the inventor to say. "You going to stand there all day?"

 _He only wants your magic! Not you, never you. Do not let this sway you!_ It was a warning, true, but the place that spat pride and loathed what he'd become had little power in the face of the mortal - and Loki had long acknowledged that it was that traitorous place in his chest that had controlled far too many of his choices all his life. The best he could do was protect with vicious words and secretive masks, to never let Tony know the pieces he held and the commands Loki would take, things he would destroy or build, if it got him the chance to hold, to kiss, to know, to _love_.

"Loki?" He was called again, almost sounding concerned. But of course, it was just one more lie, one more wistful thought that the worry was for _him_. "You coming?"

Loki blinked and took in his mortal; took in all that he was to keep Loki so ensnared. Loki's smile was far too self-deprecating, far too revealing, but he found himself exposing it to the man anyway. "I suppose I have little choice."

 _I would love you for eternity, extend your lifespan and be yours for the entire length of it,_ he thought at the mortal, coming to walk beside him. _I would protect your pathetic world and show you the wonders of the Nine. I would kneel for you, and I do not kneel lightly. I would..._ Loki trailed off, closing his eyes briefly and taking a breath. It did not matter what he would do when the one he would do it for would have no interest in the contents of his words - or worse, disbelieve them; certain they were untrue. It was not dignified, but he was safer with nothing more than an image. Hope was a knife that would slide between his ribs and rip at him with ease, but there were few things Loki possessed anymore, and he found that even that bitter pain had it charms.

_You, Loki. I'm yours, your mortal, your Anthony, your lover._

Loki would suffer uncountable times, if it was done for the right lies.

**Author's Note:**

> I like an angsty and unrequited (or _believed to be_ unrequited) Loki. It's a sickness.
> 
>  **Update, 21st February 2017:** I've had it mentioned that this could be a loose prequel to my other story [Some Secrets Were Meant To Be Told](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6354898) sooo if you feel like getting a more "happy ending" feel free to read that. It's not an official sequel, but hey, it can still work ;)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [This Promise You Didn't Keep](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11423682) by [tori_cat13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tori_cat13/pseuds/tori_cat13)




End file.
